Eclipse of the Heart
by Shena1
Summary: Beckett just wants to hibernate inside her apartment, cuddle up with the man she adores, get lost in a good book until she has to return to the precinct for her next shift... but he's lost in thought... [Two-Shot] ...Fluffy comfort. Very minor spoilers for "Valkyrie" (6x01)
1. Ch 1 - Chaos

**Look at me! I'm a big girl now... I'm writing a multi-chapter fic! :D**

**Going for that "heavy, emotional angle..." on this one.**

**Thanks Trinxy and Syzygy - blah blah blah ;)**

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**Chapter 1 - Chaos**

Her head rested gently on his lap while he absent-mindedly raked his fingers through her long, chestnut locks. She'd been working herself to exhaustion for almost two full weeks, so when her day-off finally arrived, there was nothing Beckett wanted to do more than relax completely. Hibernate inside her apartment, cuddle up with the man she adored, get lost in a good book until she had to return to the precinct for her next shift.

She had flopped down on the couch, _Deadly Heat_ in hand, using Castle's thigh as a pillow. And for the past three hours, they'd remained comfortably in that position. Castle tucked into the corner of the couch, gently caressing Beckett's flowing hair, his mind lost in thought, while she silently read her novel.

After she'd received an early morning wake-up call from a certain sassy Medical Examiner a few weeks ago - just after the book had been released - Beckett moved Castle's newest novel to the top of her ever-growing reading list. She was planning to get to it soon anyway, but Lanie's desire to have certain literary details clarified left Kate extremely curious about how Castle may have expressed his inspiration this time around.

So there she lay reading, head on Castle's lap, legs extended fully across the length of her couch.

She'd fully expected Castle to tease her a bit, make some loaded comment about her choice of literary escape. Perhaps insinuate something about enjoying verbal masterbation.

But he'd said nothing.

He just sat quietly, his deep and steady breathing complementing the rhythmic ticking of the clock coming from her bedroom. He had begun by first staring at her (she had told him it was creepy, but she secretly loved it), yet at some point during the last two hours, his attention had shifted. His eyes had glazed over. He was lost, deep in thought as he stared at her far wall.

"You didn't have that in your other apartment."

His voice was quiet, tentative. Almost a whisper.

"Hmmmmm?..." she murmured inquisitively.

"That painting. The Alex Gross. You didn't have it in your other apartment."

Kate gingerly placed a bookmark between the pages, closed the novel, and let it rest against her chest. Her breath caught slightly as she tried to find her voice.

"No," she exhaled softly, tentatively. "I bought that when I got this place."

Her reply hovered between them for what seemed to be an eternity before Castle spoke again, his eyes still fixated on the enormous work of art.

"It's you, isn't it?"

Slightly stunned, Beckett shifted. That was not the question she'd expected him to ask.

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

His voice was soft. His words slow, measured. "The woman. You see yourself in her."

It wasn't a question this time.

They remained immobile, silent, neither of them tearing their eyes from the oil painting on the wall. Beckett's heart rate began to increase as her breathing became heavy. Like the painting itself, her body, her emotions, her mind were in a chaotic state. Gently closing her eyes, Beckett took a deep breath. She exhaled excruciatingly slowly, feeling her pulse beginning to settle.

She felt one of his hands tenderly skim her left shoulder, her body responding with a slight shiver. It continued to travel down her arm, his palm grazing the back of her hand as she watched his fingers delicately entwine with hers. She continued to melt as the sensation of his other hand tucked a loose tendril behind her right ear, his lips brushing lightly against the top of her head.

As it was with her love for _Temptation Lane, _her unfathomable adoration of _Nebula-9_, or even the history behind the little stick man, Richard Castle had come to learn that if he was patient enough, when she was ready… when she felt safe… she'd tell him.

So he continued to say nothing, allowing the quiet to comfort them both for several minutes, the faint ticking of the clock the only sound.

"It's entitled '_Matasaburo of the Wind'_," she began quietly.

Castle remained silent, the tips of his fingers lightly massaging her silky hair.

"It was the first thing I bought after… when..." her voice cracked.

Castle's fingers stilled on the crown of her head. She didn't need to finish that thought. He remembered that moment all too well. The sensation of utter helplessness as he raced along the sidewalk, dodging oblivious pedestrians. The way his heart stopped beating as he could only stand and watch her apartment being consumed by flames. Everything lost. Gone. Destroyed.

It was one more thing that they'd never talked about. She'd attempted to joke it off once - _Do you have any brochures? I'm looking for a place. Mine blew up _- but he knew how much she was truly hurting. Yet another incident in the life of Kate Beckett that she bottled up. Ignored. Compartmentalized.

"I knew how she felt."

Her quiet voice broke the silence. She felt Castle's strong fingers squeeze hers ever so gently, giving her support, giving her strength.

"The wind in her face… everything pushing against her. Everything crashing down around her. That's exactly how I felt."

Kate reciprocated the light squeeze of his fingers, drawing the intertwined hands up to rest on her stomach. Castle slid his right hand from her hair, bringing it across her chest, reaching for the novel that was sitting there. He picked up the book and carefully placed it on the floor.

She immediately felt a weight lifted from her - literally and figuratively. He'd always managed to do that. Despite the silliness and the wild speculation, this writer, her partner - the man now enfolding her in his arms as his chin rested on the top of her head - he'd always seemed to know the right thing to say or do to lift the burden that was weighing her down.

He shifted gently, turning so that her head could rest firmly on his chest, her back leaning into the vee of his legs. The two of them continued to gaze at the art adorning her wall, allowing the complexities of the painting to speak to them, the layers of meaning to be peeled back.

"I was in a bad place… emotionally. And after the…" she choked slightly as the words faltered on her lips. She felt Castle's strong arms tighten around her torso. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "After the… my… shooting…"

She stopped. She couldn't bring herself back to that place. The darkness. She couldn't find the words. Castle could sense her shake her head ever-so slightly, left and right, against his chest. He knew her eyes were closed.

"You drew in on yourself." His deep voice, reduced to a whisper, broke the silence.

"Yeah," she sighed.

Emotionally, she had been in shambles for so many years, but the sniper had pushed her beyond her breaking point. Unravelled the fragile web of emotions that she'd been straining to keep intact for so long.

"But…" she began, voice dying off.

"But?"

After a moment, she hesitantly finished her thought. "The eclipse."

Castle looked up at the portion of the oil painting that depicted a solar eclipse that was occurring in the midst of all the chaos.

"It was a reminder," she continued, her voice soft but steady, "that even amidst all of the darkness and the discord, despite the anarchy that was coursing through my mind, there was always a light trying to break through."

Castle pulled her body into his, overwhelmed. His hands continued to press themselves against her stomach as he locked the fingers of his left hand that were interwoven with hers.

Kate gently lifted herself from his torso. He immediately missed the warmth of her body against his, the surety he felt of his biceps being wrapped around her lithe form. Releasing his hand, she rose slightly to turn on the couch, her body facing his. Kneeling between his legs, her hazel eyes locked on his.

Without a word, she placed her hands against his chest and leaned in, her face only inches from his.

"You, Castle," she breathed, the scent of vanilla and cherries wafting over him. "You were my light... You were always my light."

His breath caught in his chest, completely undone. So many times, Kate Beckett struggled to find the right words, but when she found them… wow.

He leaned forward, crushing her lips against his, his hands cupping the sides of her face, her hands still resting on his chest. She could feel his heart racing under her palms.

His tongue teased against her lips, but she denied him entrance as she pulled away. She could read the slight confusion in his darkened blue eyes as she leaned in once more to ghost her lips against his, the kiss soft and chaste, before she planted her feet on the floor. His disappointment was short lived as she took his hands and coaxed him off the couch.

"Come on, Castle," she smiled, "I gotta show you something."

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**Chapter 2 to come... eventually...**

**So there you go... Judge away. :)**


	2. Ch 2 - The Light

**Since I am 100% spoiler-free, this required some imaginary story building for the time frame of this story.**

**Regardless of Beckett's decision in May, I made the jump in my head that by late September 2013 or early October 2013 - about a month after the release of Deadly Heat - Castle and Beckett would be together as a couple, they'd be in NYC, but not yet living together. **

**Some of this chapter was influenced slightly by the events in "Valkyrie" because… well… I did not see that one comin'.**

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**Chapter 2 - The Light**

_'Come on, Castle. I gotta show you something.'_

She'd said those words to him before. Just once. She had opened up to him then, revealed to him how she had been investigating her mother's murder on her own time, at home. She had not shared this with anyone else… but she chose, at that moment, to share it with him.

Those particular words were important, heavy.

So he followed.

Standing before him, eyes glancing down, she tentatively reached for his left hand. Castle followed her eye-line, watching as the fingers of her right hand caressed his palm. He wrapped his strong fingers around her hand, squeezing it gently.

Tilting her head, Beckett's eyes met his, a tentative but warm smile forming on her lips.

She carefully took a step backwards, leading him across the living room, never breaking their intense gaze. She reached out, wrapping her left hand around those already entwined.

Reaching the kitchen, her left hand released its tender embrace as she pivoted, facing forward, dragging Castle along behind her. As if in a silent trance, Castle continued to follow where she led. He would follow her anywhere. He would always follow her.

Time slowed… he could feel the rhythmic beat of his heart thumping against the inside of his chest. The past four months flashing through his mind - his proposal, her acceptance, their separation for months… the infection… But in the end, it was her decision. She'd chosen to leave D.C. behind. She'd chosen to return to her former life, a detective with the NYPD.

They say home is where the heart is, and Kate Beckett's heart was not in Washington. It was in Manhattan. In the end, she'd decided to come back to New York for her… for him… for them.

Thoughts of Johanna Beckett floated through his mind. How incredible she must have been to have raised such a phenomenal, challenging, remarkable young woman. His stomach clenched at the thought that he'd never meet her.

His head tilted slightly, inquisitively. Was she taking him…? Were they going to…?

"Watch your head."

Beckett's soft voice shook Castle from his reverie. He hadn't even noticed climbing the stairs. He glanced around to gain his bearings, noting a window to his immediate right. Slightly below him to his left, the open space of the living room and kitchen. A small pile of books lay beside his feet. Light poured in from the diminutive hatch in front of him as Beckett opened the door in the wall above her kitchen.

Crouching as he passed through the stunted doorway, fingers still tangled with hers, Castle stepped across the threshold. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he slowly took in his surroundings.

After a moment of stunned silence, Castle found his voice.

"Did you do this?" his words tumbled from his mouth, laced with awe and wonder.

"Yeah," she mumbled quietly. He could hear the slight smile on her lips as she spoke. "But I haven't really had much time to work on it since I got back from D.C."

"When did you start?"

Beckett turned back slowly, her eyes locked on his face as his eyes absorbed everything around him. He'd asked her that exact question once before. That day, she'd decided to show him a bit of herself that nobody else had ever seen before. That day, she'd let him in. That day, she'd accepted him as her partner. That day, they'd kissed. That day had changed the course of their relationship forever.

And now he was asking her that same question again.

But this time was different. This time, he was her partner in all things. He was her lover. He was her fiancé. He was her heart, her whole heart. With him, she was safe.

Her fingers toyed with a leaf that had brushed against her finger. "After the sniper..." she whispered.

Castle exhaled heavily and took a step, positioning himself in front of her. He reached out to lightly stroke her arm, Beckett's eyes remaining cast down at the floor. He curled the fingers of his right hand and smoothed them lovingly against her cheek. She shivered at his touch as electricity coursed through her.

"Hey…. I'm here," he whispered, his warm voice resonating through her entire body.

She brought her left hand up to meet his, smiling as she raised her head, dark hazel eyes locking with deep blue. She took a deep breath and continued.

"My PTSD… I fell apart..." she swallowed. "I wanted to get better."

Castle inched forward, enveloping her within his muscular arms. Beckett's head rested against his chest as she reciprocated the action, wrapping her arms around his waist. His chin came to rest on the top of her head. The steady hum of the traffic below comforted them until Beckett spoke again.

"I wanted to get better for you, Castle," she murmured into his shirt. "Therapy helped... but I needed an outlet. Something constructive… not…" she paused slightly, her voice turning to a whisper as he felt her wince, "not… destructive."

"Destructive?..." he inquired, his voice low yet reassuring.

"I tried to escape my PTSD," she began in a timid voice, slightly embarrassed. "I was weak. I needed to be strong. I drank. A lot."

She felt Castle's embrace tighten around her frame.

"But alcohol didn't help. It couldn't dull thirteen years of pain." Beckett pushed back from Castle slightly and turned around in his arms, her back pressed firmly against his strong chest as he cocooned himself around her. "Dr. Burke suggested doing this."

There they stood, wrapped around each other, in the centre of a roof-top garden in the middle of Tribeca. Slightly overgrown, Castle concluded that it hadn't been cared for much at all while she had been in Washington.

The space was small, no larger than eight feet across and fifteen feet deep. It felt very intimate, secluded due the privacy fences that were covered in thick ivy. Several planters hung on one fence, and a number of larger pots sat on the ground, lining the space. Castle recognized hostas, mums, daisies, marigolds, a few dwarf shrubs as well as some tall grasses behind the simple wooden bench which sat in the back corner. He smiled to himself - low maintenance plants. Beckett had done her homework.

There was one plant, however, that he did not recognize. There were two small planters on either side of the bench, each containing the same flower - multiple buds which were small pink clusters.

Beckett anticipated Castle's inquiry. "It's called_ Lamprocanos_."

"I didn't ask."

"Yes, you were not asking very loudly," she replied softly. She couldn't help herself from smiling. Castle grinned as well as he hugged her tightly against him.

She turned her head, burying her nose in his neck. "It's more commonly known as Bleeding Heart."

She felt Castle swallow, tensing.

"I thought I was okay… that the PTSD was gone… but it'll never be gone," she breathed. "Not completely."

She gathered her strength as Castle's embrace warmed her.

"When I was at that hotel protecting…" she choked on her words, painful memories flooding back.

"Vaughn," Castle finished the thought.

Beckett heard a slight cringe in his voice. Her stomach twisted, knotting itself into a pretzel. It was so long ago, and yet all too recent. It still stung. Both of them. But he had to know. She had to let him in. She didn't want him to have to scratch and claw anymore.

She exhaled slowly and continued. "When that shot went through the window… it came back. The PTSD. I managed it. Came up here. The space is too small for yoga, but it's been a great place to meditate... And I planted that," she pointed at one of the pink plants.

"A few months into my training in D.C.," she continued, "my target shot me twice in the chest."

"You never told me that," Castle stated quietly.

"It was just training, the shots weren't real… but I still got knocked to the ground. And for a moment…" she voice trailed off. He ghosted a light kiss on the top of her head. "I couldn't breathe. I was on my back, on the ground, and it took everything in me not to have a panic attack."

"Kate…" Castle whispered as he turned her in his arms. Face to face, he wrapped her in a tight embrace as she felt her heart palpitating in time with his.

"You'd arrived that night," she smiled, "but once you left, I felt the panic return. So I planted a second one. I put it there," she nodded in the direction of the second planter, "when I moved back."

Beckett closed her eyes as Castle's forehead met hers. He breathed her in as she absorbed strength from him.

"It was therapeutic, you know," she said, her voice soothing. "Those hearts… they bleed. Mine doesn't."

Castle moved his hands from around her slim frame to gently caress her face, his thumb wiping away the stray tear that had rolled down her cheek.

"Kate…" he whispered as he leaned in to brush a tender kiss on the tip of her nose, "I promise you here and now… I will never make your heart bleed."

The gentle touch of two of her fingers silenced his lips. Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, everything that they needed to say was communicated in the depth of their gaze. The rush of traffic on the street below became a distant murmur. The outside world melted away.

In this moment, only they existed.

Her hand traveled across his jaw, smoothing its way around the back of his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in the soft hairs at his nape. His hands, still cupping her face, brought her mouth to meet his, their lips engaging in a dance that they'd perfected long ago. Yet this time it felt new.

He tasted her tears as they rolled across her lips, his tongue smoothing the soft flesh as she opened herself to him. She couldn't suppress the shiver of her body, the moan that escaped from the back of her throat, the sensation of warmth that rushed through her core.

During an autumn sunset, as the cool air settled over Manhattan, there they were, completely wrapped up in each other.

In a place she created to heal her wounds, she'd unexpectedly healed his as well.

**END**

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**Ky03elk wanted fluff... **

**So there you go... Judge away**


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